


Of New Beginnings and Baking

by Saraste



Series: Holiday ficlets 2016 [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 2016 Holiday Ficlets, Baking, Domestic, Drarry, Holiday Season, Kissing, M/M, Moving, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 12:14:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8750461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saraste/pseuds/Saraste
Summary: Draco and Harry move into a little house in Godric's Hollow. Harry teaches Draco to bake.





	

Eventually, Harry and Draco had decided to settle somewhere new, somewhere without the whispers of the past present in stone and mortar, a fact which rendered long-term living at either Twelve Grimmauld Place or Malfoy Manor not comfortable, at least at this point. No-one could tell about the future, but right now they were in need of a fresh start somewhere new.

 

That somewhere new, their new start, was settling in Godric's Hollow.

 

They do not rebuild the house in which Voldemort murdered Harry's parents, tried to kill him, even when they technically could have. Harry had felt ill at the mere thought… to live in the location of some of his worst nightmares was something he would never wish to do, which was why he had also refused moving into the Manor, apart from having to live with the in-laws.

 

It's on the 4th of December that they are finally settling in into their little cottages, most of the rooms lined with unpacked boxes.

 

It's a two-storey stone house, with a little snow covered garden at the front and a yard out back just inviting for impromptu flying sessions, come spring thaw. The rooms are cosy but not too small and anything is a palace compared to Harry's childhood years in the cupboard under the stairs.

 

The house has no cupboard under the stairs, but a little nook with shelves fitted in, perfect for a smattering of books.

 

Draco grouses at the lack of space in comparison with his ancestral home, but Harry knows better, sees the warmth in his grey eyes when they are arranging their things, making the house a home with their presence and mementoes.

 

Half the sitting room floor is still littered with deshrunked boxes, but when Harry enters, he finds Draco arranging fairy lights up onto the wall with careless flicks of his wand. There is a merry fire crackling in the old fire place, adding to the calm cosiness.

 

Harry sidles closer on wool-socket feet, smiling, and slings his hands around Draco's waist, pressing a kiss to the side of his blonde head, then laying his head over Draco's shoulder.

 

'There are still boxes,' he admonishes, tone light, a little tired.

 

'Well, _you_ can unbox them, I thought this place needed a little cheering up.' His tone is light, but there is something just under the surface, a sense of surprise at the fact that he gets to have this, gets to have this with Harry.

 

Harry grins. 'You were supposed to unbox them.' He himself had just finished in the kitchen, with it's windows giving out onto the back yard, while the sitting room is on the garden side, and had almost fallen over the boxes still in the hallway.

 

Draco turns, gives Harry a kiss, lingering and soft, and his hand stills, the lights held aloft where he's been affixing them onto the top of the walls.

 

Harry presses their foreheads together for a moment, so very happy in that moment, in the idea of  _home_ .

 

'Finish the lights, I'll help you with the books afterwards,' Harry mutters, knowing when he's lost.

 

Draco smirks, flicks his wand so a few more inches of lights sprout out and attach to the wall, 'Deal.'

 

Harry lets his hands wander. 'And maybe then we can make Christmas cookies.'

 

'I can't bake,' Draco huffs.

 

Harry leans tight against Draco, feeling so at  _home_ with him, relishing at the thought of their first real Christmas together. In their house. Their home. 'I'll teach you,' he promises.

 

'My father would have a fit, his son  _baking_ !'

 

Harry breathes. In. Out. 'Do you care?'

 

'No.'

 

*

 

Later, the living room is bathed in a warm bright glow from the fairy lights and all the boxes have been cleared away. Draco is slouching between Harry's legs, snug in the vee of his spread legs, both of them on the couch facing the fireplace. Both of them are munching on freshly baked cookies, a tea tray is set on the small table next to the sofa. Snow falls lazily down to the ground beneath the windows.

 

'Good?' Harry asks, playing with Draco's hair, relishing at the feel of the warm body spread over his own.

 

Draco grunts, swallowing, taking lazy possession of a tea cup, sipping from it delicately.

 

'Yes,' he answers, finally, and Harry had a feeling that he means more than just the cookies

 


End file.
